Merry Christmas, Mrs Jane
by Emma95
Summary: First Christmas Jane and Lisbon spend as a married couple. And what better way than to share it with the family? Though three-month pregnant Lisbon would rather not. How does someone learn to act as part of a family after years and years of leading a solitary life? A fluffy/angsty fic to keep you warm at Christmas. Happy Holidays!
1. Chapter 1: Surprise Visit

**A/N:** As a little reminder, Jason, Annie, Brian, Joey and Paul are Stan and Karen's kids. Lucy is Jimmy's girlfriend from WO. Don't confuse Annie with Tommy's daughter, who's also an Annie (Annabeth). I guess it was their mother's name?

* * *

Chapter 1: Surprise Visit

The line clears up in front of them and Lisbon sighs quietly, the light pitter-patter of her foot coming to a stop. People are in a hurry to close all their businesses before the first dawn of the holiday arrives. There are shopping bags waving around, children shrieking, and Christmas decorations covering every inch. The usual hustle of the city has doubled up, but so have her impatience. Why is it that clinics are always more congested during holy days? She never understood.

Jane turns to her slightly, his eyes a warm caress. Unruffled happiness emanates from every acre of his body. She's gotten so much of his happiness this past month, she thinks it can make up for all the years of pain. He wraps her hand with his and moves over to lean on the counter.

"Hello, we have an appointment with the radiologist". His voice carries an ease and contentment like the sight of a puffing chimney in a cold winter.

"Name?" asks the receptionist, not looking up from her computer.

"Aah", Jane turns to glance at her, a smile ghosting over the corner of his mouth, "Jane", he says, still looking at her. She purses her lips, caught in the playful gleam of his eyes. It's still pleasantly surreal that they both share the same name now. At least on paper. Between them and among their co-workers, they're still Jane and Lisbon. She loves his first name, but whenever she tried calling him Patrick, it sounded strange to her, distant—which is weird, considering first names usually bear a sense of intimacy. But he's Jane. Her Jane. Warm and familiar—and full of smiles these past months.

As soon as the woman gets busy with typing, his attention shifts to the little Christmas tree that decks the counter. He beams at it with childlike wonder, then turns to her with a grin. She smiles, shaking her head. He starts picking at a gold angel ornament. Few seconds later, the receptionist raises her head from her computer to throw him a glare. He instantly lets go of the bauble and opens his palms in peace. As soon as she looks away, he lifts his eyebrows in mockery. Lisbon bumps him on the side. He glances at her once, his features instantly put into order.

"Have you done any ultrasound scans before?" asks the woman then.

"No, that's the first", Lisbon answers in a brittle voice. She licks her lips and tucks her tongue between her teeth. The woman types a little more, then prints a sheet of paper. "Third floor on the right", she says, handing over the form. Jane takes a quick look at it, before drawing his attention to his wife. His eyes grow soft. He brings his lips close to her ear.

"Everything's gonna be fine, I promise", he whispers.

She exhales through her teeth. "When this is over, I'm gonna eat two whole bowls of ice cream", she says, more to herself than to him.

"I'm gonna see to it personally", Jane concurs, gently pushing her toward the elevators.

The appointment has been scheduled for weeks, but her nervousness set off only yesterday night. She had to wake up Jane and ask him about his first experience with Angela. It didn't make things any better that they had decided to keep the gender a surprise with his first wife, so he basically had no clue. She has no idea what to expect. What if the sound waves affect the baby? What if she's allergic to the lubricating gel? _What if it harms the baby?_ She recognizes her fears as irrational—so many women have undergone the examination; Grace said it was harmless. What's wrong with her? She's never been so sensitive and emotional and utterly vulnerable. She always had control. It's almost like the life that's growing inside her is changing her whole view of the world. And it bewilders her. She doesn't know whether she's more scared or more... excited. She feels so unstable.

"I can't believe we're gonna know his gender in any while from now", she shrieks out loud. They're alone in the elevator, which gives her an extra sense of freedom.

Jane gives a quiet, hearty laugh.

She looks at him, narrowing her eyes. "What?" Her voice flirts with hysteria.

He carefully fixes his features. "Nothing... Just, you said _his_ gender. Kind of deletes the whole meaning of what you said, don't you think?"

"See?" she bursts. "Another sign that he's a boy. For once, you have to accept that your psychic skills are not valid here", she says, picking up from their long-term argument about the gender.

Jane sighs. "There's no way with you, woman", he complains.

She furrows, her lips puckering in a pout. She realizes that she's behaving like a frenetic woman, changing moods with the minute.

"Tell me what you are so nervous about, because I'm sensing this is about more than just the procedure", Jane says then.

She presses her tongue on her teeth, his question catching her off guard. She draws her eyes to herself.

"I don't know. Everyday he grows more inside me and inside my mind. Now he's gonna become even more real, because I'm going to see him finally and—" she stops herself before her voice can reach higher notes.

Jane rubs his thumb on her hand. She meets his gaze in the confined space of the elevator. A warm glow seethes in his eyes.

"I know", he murmurs. Sigh, "I know".

* * *

Heads turn in annoyance, as a wave of noise ripples across the airport baggage claim area. A large family—four kids, a man and a woman with a baby carriage—push through the endless line of people stacked at the moving belt, wreaking havoc at their wake.

"Sorry, sorry…" Stan apologizes, cradling little Joey at his side, his eyes darting around, searching for their luggage. "We're in a kind of hurry".

An old man raises his walking stick, scowling at him. "Hey, get back in the line!"

Stan pats his back. "How you doing, pops? Whow, you might wanna lower that thing down. Someone could get hurt". He moves onward, leaving him behind.

"I'm gonna call the security!" the old man shouts after him, though his protests are barely audible in the hustle.

Jason and Annie hop like springs at their father's side, filling the place with their happy giggles. Karen creeps along behind them, rummaging the belt with her eyes, while holding Brian and rolling Paul's pram. Stan suddenly sticks his head out of the row to make contact with his wife. "Karen, I found them!" he shouts for almost all the airport to hear. Jason and Annie shriek victoriously, thrusting their fists in the air. "Sorry", Stan mumbles again, as he breaks the line to retrieve their suitcases. His wife scurries to help him, burbling her own sorries on the way.

"Here kids, hold these". Stan gives each of them a small bag to carry. "Alright, we haven't forgotten anything, have we?" He looks at the moving luggage, while Karen checks their bags.

"No, everything's here", she breathes.

"'Right". Stan throws a last glance toward the people in the line, "thank you, sorry for the inconvenience".

They all start toward the exit, taking the rumble with them, oblivious to the lingering stares on their backs. Jimmy and Lucy meet them halfway, loaded with candies and other goodies from the duty-free shop. Jimmy licks a spoon full of chocolate, cheeks rosy and eyes shining.

"Jimmy!" Stan protests, as he sees his brother. "Where were you? We've been looking for you! What are all these?"

"Come on, brother, we can't visit Teresa with empty hands", Jimmy mumbles with a full mouth. "What time did Patrick say they would be at the clinic?" he asks then.

"They are there now!" Stan answers.

"Wait, should we buy balloons or something?" Jimmy asks.

"Oh my God, that's a perfect idea!" Lucy exclaims.

Stan looks at her with a frown, then turns back to his brother. "I think balloons are for when she actually gives birth to the baby".

"Yeah, but she's going to find out the gender. Still a big moment, bro", Jimmy defends. Lucy nods as if to second her boyfriend's opinion, her eyes sparking with enthusiasm.

* * *

Luminous, palpable shapes pulsate on a black screen, as a cold, sticky substance spreads on her tummy. Her eyes, her senses, her mind — are all focused on the miracle that unravels in front of her. The motion stops on her belly, the particles of dust seem to freeze in the air – as if to capture the moment in their geometry – and her fingers are squeezed tightly into a fistful.

There's a form in the shape of an almond nestled at the center of the screen, throbbing. Slowly. Rhythmically. Like a breathing bubble of life.

"Congratulations", says a modulated voice, "You're gonna have a boy".

The nurse utters the words as if they're routine to her, and Lisbon knows—she's not the first woman to sit on this black canvas and have her belly ultra-sounded, nor is she the first to have her husband accompany her. Yet, she can't imagine her emotions being sorted under that same category—despite common logic, she's the first woman that has ever felt them.

And she has no idea how to control them.

"My baby—He-he looks so small. Is-is that h-his heart?" she chirps incoherently, tilting her head and sticking out a finger. Despite her convictions about the gender, she can't wrap her mind around the fact that her little stirrer is actually a 'he'. A person. Flashes of a little boy with bouncing blond curls and wide blue-green eyes cram her thoughts. A little Jane running around her house. Her heart can't contain her emotions.

"Yes, ma'am", the nurse answers mechanically.

Lisbon's lips mold into a perfect circle. "Jane," she presses into her husband's palm under her fingers, her eyes never leaving the screen, "look how his heart is beating. So tiny", she turns to the nurse, fear clenching around her heart, "Is that normal?"

The woman nods, her tight blond ponytail flipping. Relief courses through Lisbon's chest. The nurse's eyes focus above Lisbon's head.

"You can try with the probe if you want", she says, raising her voice.

Lisbon turns around toward her husband. She realizes midway that she hasn't heard a reaction from him. She shrivels for a fraction of the second, before her gaze lands on him.

Jane's eyes contain the light of the cosmos, gleaming in all the possible colors of the spectrum; his features are stretched; his lips crack his face in half. She's only ever seen a similar expression on him when she had first announced the news of her pregnancy one and half of a month ago. Only now it's multiplied.

She slightly strokes his hand with her thumb. "Jane", she whispers. He turns to her, but his eyes barely leave the sonogram. When she meets his gaze, she feels like she can sip the entire universe out of it. She wonders in that moment, whether the amount of pain he has endured in his life has also increased his capacities of happiness. At the same time, she can't remember ever seeing him more sad than she can see him happy now. The world fades away, as it seems to do when she looks into his eyes. For a moment, the thought that they've made it possible for this little creature to come to the world—that they are going to be his parents—is the only thing that matters. Soft giggles fill their mouths. Jane's eyes thin into slits, his hand tightens around hers, and she squeezes back.

"I'll give you some time alone", says the nurse, before she slips out of the room.

It is quiet for a long while. Lisbon's hand rubs on the leather canvas, as she moves to cup her husband's cheek. His flesh is like cool velvet under her fingers. Jane covers her hand with his and leans in to place his forehead on hers. He takes in a deep breath and then his entire chest relaxes. They both close their eyes. There's no need for lengthy expressions of love or gratitude—it's all there, radiating from their touch.

Jane pulls back, his face returns to normal, but the spring of wonder still quietly shimmers in his eyes.

"Our son", he croaks, as if he's trying the word on his lips. Another wave of pure joy crosses his features. Lisbon feels like she's tightly connected to the muscles on his face.

"I told you he was a boy", she throttles. Another round of quiet giggles. Her shoulders rise, as if to contain her happiness.

"I should never doubt a mother's instinct again", Jane quips in a sober voice. Her breath catches, as he looks to her bare stomach, his expression growing serious.

"Hey, son", he whispers. Tears gather in her eyes. He reaches for the probe, his lip curling in concentration. He takes the gadget in his hand and starts moving it across her belly. And then, in front of her eyes forms the image that she will live to remember till the last minutes of her life—her husband smiling at the first sight of their son, murmuring words of love, while his hands skim over her bare skin. The cool liquid produces a tickling sensation on her skin and suddenly, she snorts with a laugh. Jane's hand freezes on her stomach, his head flicking toward her. His horrified expression fuels her laughter even more; tears, welled in her eyes from joy, now spill down her cheeks from exhilaration.

"I'm – sorry", she says among cackles.

Jane shakes his head. "I can't believe you, woman. I'm trying to form a connection with my son here and you start laughing, you get tickled. How come you didn't get tickled when the nurse used the probe on you? I hope you see how unfair this is", he rattles on, waving a finger in front of her.

"It's not my fault you make me ticklish!" Lisbon protests.

"Oh, now _I'm_ making you ticklish."

Lisbon widens her eyes, lifting her shoulders. _Obviously._

"You mean if I touch you here", Jane dabs two fingers at her waist; she folds in half, laughing; at the same time, craving growing inside her. "And here…" Jane continues in a soft voice, caressing the cavity above her tummy. The laughter slowly dies in her throat. Her gaze slowly travels from his long fingers up to his face. His eyes are darkened when they meet hers. It does nothing good for her crazy hormones.

"You know what?" she starts, breathing heavily, "I think two times are not enough in the mornings. We have to add to that number", she states.

"Honey, it's not gonna be enough no matter how much we add to that number. Your pregnancy has made you extremely hormonal", Jane counters.

Lisbon frowns. "You're saying that as if it's a bad thing for you", she accuses him.

"Oh, believe me, you make me the happiest husband ever—I think I've proven that adequately in action—but I'm starting to get a little worried about my potency. You're wearing out my stamina", he admits.

She simpers. Patrick Jane questioning his abilities in bed – that's something new to see. She pats his waist, wrinkling her nose. "I think you're enduring just fine", she whispers sotto voce.

"Thank you, it's always good to know", he returns in the same manner.

His ogle says it all – _Wait till we get home._

The nurse jams the door exactly in that moment, rushing into the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there is a group of people out at the reception demanding for me to let them see you. I don't know how to handle them and they're stirring the peace at the clinic. I told them I would call you, they're saying they're your family", she explains out of breath.

Lisbon stares at her wide eyes, the flocks of hair hanging out of her ponytail, unable to process what she's just heard. Her eyebrows slowly draw thick, her blood pressure rising. She draws her gaze toward Jane in desperation. She finds him looking at the floor, rubbing his old brown shoes on each other.

"Jane?" she asks calmly. Jane slowly raises his head, arching his eyebrows in question. She narrows her eyes, "Why am I getting the impression you're not surprised?" She tries to keep her voice down.

Jane opens his mouth to say something, but it is too late – his expression has confirmed her suspicions.

"You knew about this!" she realizes.

He raises his palm. "I—" he starts to defend himself.

"You've got some serious explaining to do!" she says. She looks desperately at the mess on her tummy. The nurse scurries to her side.

"Here let me help you clean that", she offers.

"They called and said they'd come. I-I couldn't stop them", Jane defends, lifting his shoulders.

"You told them about the scan!"

"Well, I didn't think they would actually come at the clinic!"

The nurse starts wiping off the sticky liquid off her tummy with large paper towels, which she disposes of in a plastic bin next to the bed.

"Why are they even here?" Lisbon bursts.

Jane bites the inside of his lip. She stares at him, her look gradually becoming a glare.

"Okay, I promised I would keep it a surprise till they come, but I'm thinking now your brothers—and me—are probably gonna need our lives..." he mutters. His gaze levels hers. "It's for Christmas". She furrows. "They want us to spend the holidays together in Chicago", Jane further explains.

She blinks, disoriented. "And they've come all the way to Texas to tell us?"

"Well, you can see exactly why if you judge from your reaction now", Jane tells her. "They didn't trust you'd come if they just called, so they've come to fetch us themselves".

"That's ridiculous", she fumes. The nurse finishes off and she leaps out of the bed, fixing down her blouse.

Just then, the entrance bursts with loud shrieks and foot clatter. Lisbon freezes with her back facing the door.

"Heeey!" she hears Jimmy's voice. Child giggles flit around the room. She slowly turns around. Her nieces and nephews pour into the room, instantly hurling themselves at her. Jane hurries to stop them, before they can reach her.

"Hello", he chants, picking Annie up in his arms. The girl starts playing with his locks.

"Hey, Teresa!" Stan greets her with a goofy smile, standing under the threshold.

"Hi, sis", Jimmy follows next to his brother. They're both holding pink and blue balloons. His girlfriend — Lucy, if Lisbon recalls right — inches through the entrance and starts screaming happily.

"Congratulations! You're gonna be a boy's mother!" She runs around the bed to pull her into a hug. "And I am going to be his aunt!" Lisbon's hands fly clumsily around her.

"The nurse told us the news", Jimmy explains. "We didn't know beforehand, so we bought both pink and blue balloons — Lucy's idea". He smiles apologetically.

Her brothers step inside the room; Stan's wife, Karen, follows, rolling in a pram. She takes her turn greeting her. Suddenly, the room is crammed with people and little devils running around.

"Paddy!" Stan exclaims, walking to Jane to pat his back. Jane regards him warmly, shifting Annie to his side.

"How you doing, man?" Stan asks, then, leaning in, "Thanks for keeping it a surprise". He can still be heard across the room. Jane returns the gesture, smiling.

"You're welcome, but I don't know how well that's gonna serve you. Your sister isn't a fan of surprises", he says.

Stan gives her a moderate look, his smile flickering a little. "You don't say", he says through gritted teeth.

"Stan", Lisbon struggles to sound pleasant, "what are you doing here?"

Jimmy answers instead.

"We thought we'd spend Christmas together this year. Just like old times, remember?"

"We called Tommy, too, but he didn't answer", Stan fills in.

Lisbon's gaze flickers between both of her brothers. They both stare at her like eager puppies waiting to be fed.

She thrusts a hand in the air, "Couldn't you just have called me, too?" She instantly realizes how rude she's just sounded, but it is too late to take her words back.

The happy looks on her brothers' faces falter. Jimmy shifts his weight awkwardly. Side glances flit toward her from the women in the room. Guilt overruns her. At the same time, her anger rises, because she knows she wouldn't have to feel guilty if they hadn't put her in this situation in the first place.

"Whow!" Jane scurries to save the situation. He puts her niece down and walks to her side. His hand lands gently on her back, the other rubbing her arm. "What she means, Stan, is that she is surprised to see you here. Excuse her little aggressive tone," he hides his mouth behind his palm, "Pregnancy hormones", he whispers loudly. She throws him a glare. Jane clears his throat. "I mean, you understand", he says in a clearer voice, waving at her stomach.

"Yeah, of course", Stan answers, his smile creeping back on his face. The joyful mood returns to the atmosphere once again. She's so relieved, she wants to press her husband against a wall and thank him in her very own unique way. The thought that she'll have plenty of time with him later calms her nerves a little.

Jimmy looks at her seriously then.

"The truth is, sis, we know how you tend to avoid this kind of thing. So this time we thought we'd keep you to your word!" he chirps. Lisbon forces a smile. "We really hope you'll want to come at your own will though", Jimmy hurries to add in a sober tone.

It's her turn to talk once again. Jane rubs her back reassuringly. She sighs, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Guys", she starts. "I'm really moved by the gesture —really— but... I can't, I-I don't know if it would be good for the baby to be engaged in hectic activity right now, such as travelling across country and staying in hotels—"

"Who said anything about hotels?" Stan interrupts her. "You're going to stay at our house, of course".

"At your house?" she exclaims. "I mean, is there enough room?" Her gaze weighs on their five children.

"There's always room for the family", Stan claims. His words seem to serve a double purpose—stir her emotionally. They don't fail.

She shakes her head, "I don't know, I—you shouldn't have come all the way here!" she blurts frustrated, unable to hold her temper.

"I see", Stan mutters, lowering his gaze. "Look, we'll let you think about it. We'll be staying at a hotel overnight. If we don't receive an answer till tomorrow morning, we'll understand". He turns to the rest in the room, the lines on his face suddenly looking deep and tired. "Come on, folks! All out!"

One by one, they all exit the room, taking all the hustle with them. As the white surroundings stare empty at her once again, she doesn't know how to feel. All she wants is to be sheltered in the safety of her home.

The nurse, who's been watching their squabble in awkward silence, smiles politely at her.

"I'll print the sonogram for you to have", she says, instantly getting herself busy.

Lisbon sighs and leans her head back onto Jane's shoulder. He brings his hand to her head, stroking her hair and shelving her side bangs aside.

"Ice cream?" he asks softly into her ear.

She smiles. He always finds the right thing to say.

"Those are magic words", she chants, deliberately picking a phrase out of his vocabulary.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! I know I have to update my other stories, but I blame it on Christmas — I felt warm and cozy (and I wanted to write a Christmas Jisbon story since last year!). No case in this one, just fluffy/angsty situations. Will probably be a few chapters. Would love to hear your thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2: All I Want For Christmas

**A/N** : Thank you for all the reviews. Warning for M content in this chapter. Starts after the first line break (the one below excluded).

* * *

Chapter 2: All I Want For Christmas

She never would have thought it is humanly possible to become emotional by watching ducks flounder in a pond, while sitting on a park bench with her husband, eating ice cream out of a plastic spoon. Her eyes fix on a mama duck crossing the water, her little ducks floating behind in rows. That duck must be so brave and strong to raise so many babies. A lump forms in her throat. She downs another spoonful of her ice cream.

Most of her emotions she shares with Jane—sometimes it is simply impossible to keep all the noise internalized. However, a great amount she keeps to herself, too. She doesn't know what's happening to her, why she gets all these mixed emotions. It is these exact fears she refuses to communicate—though with him, there's always a small chance that he might suspect. This time, though, it's more than just her inner drive to hide her weaknesses. Something's changing in her. And until she's determined what that is exactly, she can't have anyone knowing.

"It's okay to tell me, you know", Jane's voice rips the buzz of the thriving nature.

She stills, not sure if once again he's read her thoughts. She jerks her head toward him and roams his calm profile. A light breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves in the trees above. He dabs the tip of his tongue on his lips. Her thoughts waver toward a dangerous path for a second, before he turns to meet her gaze. She shakes her head.

"You know I won't judge", Jane murmurs. She doesn't know if the pond is deeper or his eyes.

She waves her chin. "Tell you what?" It's impossible that he's read her thoughts.

He studies her eyes carefully. She can see a spark of suspicion flash through his expression, though it quickly vaporizes. "Why you don't want to spend Christmas with your brothers", he says. He takes another taste of his ice cream.

Now that he's mentioned it, she's forced to face her earlier worries.

"Trust me, you have no idea how it is to spend Christmas with my brothers", she says, turning her head away.

"Well, sure they're a bit _messy_ , but… they're your brothers", he dips his head to catch her gaze, "and this is no longer about you feeling guilty around them. So what is it?"

She frowns, then averts her gaze to take another lick of her ice cream. "It's just-" she starts with a full mouth, waving her spoon, "they'll always start fighting with each other after spending a few seconds together, let alone two whole weeks! And then it always comes down to Mom and Dad and how they were like – and I just hate it. It is one of the reasons I left, I don't want to be reminded of it. It's better if our relationships stay like they are now – occasional and happy", she defends, her voice reaching a climax.

He answers with silence at first. After a few seconds, she's tempted to look at him. Furious eyes meet soulful ones. He blinks, as if to caress her with his eyelashes. "You don't want to remember how it was being a family. You're afraid it will open old wounds", he reads her.

She opens her mouth to protest, but the words die in her throat. She blinks, her lips parted. Somehow he managed to express exactly what her heart was whispering to her, but she refused to hear. She bores into his eyes. She's stood bare in front of them in so many ways and occasions, she no longer notices it when it happens. Or maybe the right expression would be - she no longer feels bare in front of him. Physically or emotionally. He is her husband and his love are her clothes.

He always holds her gaze steadily when he's about to kiss her. Only now they were already staring at each other, so he takes her by surprise when he leans in and takes the corner of her mouth. Her lips close clumsily over his, her eyelids fall shut. Their mouths remain locked in this single encounter, without moving any further or back. Sometimes, a kiss is just a hold on each other, a hug with the lips, a stopping of time.

They pull back, just enough to open their eyes. Jane whispers to her, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Your brothers will understand. We can spend the holiday whatever way you want to. Just the three of us".

His voice guides her through the path of redemption. One by one, he dispels all her concerns. As clear skies shine in her mind, the gravity of her world shifts to five words.

 _Just the three of us._

Suddenly, she's seeing him in her memory's eye, back at her nephew's christening, tossing a baby in the air, while a little boy sharing his exact looks plays about his feet. And then another image – one of her own creation – him, surrounded by family, receiving love from every corner, wearing Christmas pullovers and entertaining her nieces and nephews.

She's not a family person, but he is. More than anyone. And he barely ever had the chance to show it.

* * *

They shuffle through the front door, fighting to keep lips and hands on each other, while tending on things such as kicking the door closed and getting rid of carry-ons and jackets. She shoves him on the wall and pulls herself flush against him. She opens her palms across his neck, his ears, his nape hair, while her lips crash open with his. Her tongue barely touches his, before she untangles herself to get rid of her clothes. He pushes out his lower lip and half-opens his eyes, searching for her. She throws away every single piece of cloth, then pushes his hands aside to unbutton his vest. She's barely touched it, when he dives to lift her in his arms. He carries her to their bedroom and lays her on the mattress. There, he takes off his clothes and joins her on top. Their first meeting carries all the impatience and anticipation of the day. He takes her raw and passionately, scattering open-mouthed kisses all over her body. Once the basic needs are fulfilled though, they slow their pace and start exploring each other in detail.

After finishing for the third time, they flop onto the pillows, both wheezing uncontrollably. Lisbon takes a few minutes to catch her breath.

"God, that was- " She tilts her head to the side, dry-heaving, "Remind me why we didn't start doing this ten years ago".

Jane stares at the ceiling. "I have no fucking idea".

"It would have saved you from so many arguments", she breathes.

"I don't think you mean that. Nothing can get in your way when you're angry at me", he answers in the same tone.

"You're right, I don't. But it would still be worth it".

Their puffs gradually ease into silence. As quiet sets in the dimly lit room, she rolls herself to his side. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her closer. She nestles onto his chest, tangling her foot with his. They watch the shadows in the room shift, as the night slowly takes over, their hands roaming across each other's body – the epitome of bliss. At some point in the night, her whisper stirs the serenity.

"I want to go", she says.

Quiet.

"To Chicago", she specifies.

For a long while, she listens to his rhythmic breath following the rises and falls of his chest. She almost thinks he's fallen asleep, when his low voice fills the room.

"What changed your mind?" he asks.

She shifts her weight and towers above him, chestnut hair dangling off her shoulders, eyes interlocking with his. She nudges her chin at his direction.

"Oh", he realizes; he knits his eyebrows, "I don't remember doing anything to convince you".

She smiles. "Yes, you did. It's called reverse psychology". He opens his mouth to protest, but she puts a finger against it. "It's okay", she reassures him. "I know you did it to save me from all the guilt later and I love you for that".

He stares at her like a child, his lips crushed under her finger. He waits for her to release them, before he starts talking.

"I'm really moved that you give me so much credit, honey, but I really meant it when I said we can spend Christmas however you want", he says.

"Yeah, right", she calls him out.

"Seriously", he insists, his eyes grave. "We can do whatever you want. I don't care - as long as I'm with you, I don't care", he shrugs.

Her smile wavers, as it dawns on her that he's telling the truth. Part of her is still waiting for his grin to emerge though. Then, finally, she decides it doesn't matter.

"Whatever", she says. "The truth is, I want us to be a family, with all the ups and downs that families have. I want to share that with you, to have a chance at being normal, to make memories that we will remember together at our back porch and laugh with, memories we'll tell our son about". She doesn't control the words spilling out of her mouth. She almost doesn't recognize the person that's said them. She's never expressed her inmost desires, not even to herself – having a normal, loving family was never something she thought she would want so badly. Now that it has finally surfaced, it feels like it's conquering her. And as much as it astounds her, it also scares her to death.

Jane stares at her, eyes wide-open. When he blinks, they're all covered in wetness. A smile splits his lips. "Bright side", he says, his voice sounding teary.

Her smile peaks up again. With two words, he's brightened her world again.

"Bright side", she whispers with a nod, then lowers down to savor his mouth. At first, there's too much smiling for their lips to close over each other. But, sometimes, a kiss is just a messy touch of lips and teeth, a smile spread across two faces, a meeting of souls.

It turns out three times aren't enough either.


	3. Chapter 3: Overslept

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Hope I will finish this before the end of holiday! I appreciate all the support.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Overslept

She bats her eyelashes into the bright sunlight that washes the bedroom. Waking up feels like hatching out of an egg these days, like pushing against a thick membrane. Sleeping is succumbing to gravity. Instant. Inevitable. She's discovered that having sex before sleep helps with the morning exhaustion. Her bones have turned into liquid in her skin, her mind is swimming in haziness. As she gains consciousness of her body, she realizes her mouth is open, drooling on the pillow. She gathers it up, worried that someone has borne witness to her unappealing slumber.

Jane's hand is unfurled across her tummy, cupping the faint, subtle cavity that's already started to form. She turns her head to squint over her shoulder, only to meet his nose. His eyelashes fan his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. He looks peaceful. Untroubled. She wonders what he's dreaming of. The indolent muscles around her mouth twitch with a smile. She slides her hand from under the covers to push aside the lock of hair that falls on his forehead. Reality wanes in his enchantment. Soon though, a twinging feeling grows in her stomach. At first, it takes the form of a general, vague sense that she's forgotten something. She shuffles in the sheets, humming discomfort. The sun beams impair her sight once again, and then she jolts upright, palms slamming the mattress and hair falling forward.

"Oh my God", she mutters. She hears Jane mumble in protest, but she ignores him. Feeling like her back is covered in ice cubes, she fumbles for the alarm clock on the bed table and shoves it into her sight, meanwhile her other hand subconsciously reaching out to her husband. She sways his arm, staring at the red digits on the screen.

"Jane!" she urges. He groans, shifting under the covers. She twists around, the alarm clock dropping from her grasp. "Jane!" she bares her teeth. His eyebrows curl up. She cradles his arm with both hands. "Jane, wake up", she pleads. "We're late. I have to call my brothers".

He arches an eyebrow, his mouth twisting. "What?" he asks, his voice thin and muffled. She sighs, her shoulders dropping like two ripe pears.

"Please, Patrick", she murmurs in a desperate last attempt to awaken him. _They were probably waiting for my answer the whole morning._ The thought breaks through the barrier of numbness and sizzles her. She lowers her eyes, trying to shake the feeling of being the most horrible person in the world. _Well done Teresa, if they didn't hate you, now they certainly will._ She huffs, her breath hissing like a kettle. She draws her gaze upwards.

Eyes raw and wrinkled from sleep stare at her in the midday whiteness - the pupils are contracted; deep concern tints the blue-green of their rims. Jane fumbles for her hand in the air, rising to a sitting position. His gaze darts around and back to her. He finds her palm and curls his fingers around hers.

He nods, his features fully alert; "I'll pack", he reassures her. She waves her head, gripping from his eyes.

"I'll check with the flights", she chokes.

Sheets fly as they both lurch out of bed. Bare feet tap on empty tiles, coming round to meet in front of the closet. Jane raises an eyebrow, his eyes glistening, before wrapping his hand around the knob. Her gaze briefly scans his nudeness, a smile teases the corner of her lips, but is too weak to live in her flutter. They start rummaging for clothes, standing shoulder to shoulder. Their garments nearly bloat out of the closet. There's barely room for the hangers to move on the rod.

"I'm definitely installing a dressing room in our new house", Jane mutters under his breath, straining to separate his suits.

"And then you can call Cho to play dress-up", Lisbon murmurs. She pulls out her deep green sweater and spreads it out to examine it. After a moment she feels Jane's gaze on her. She looks at him questioningly, slowly realizing what she just said.

He frowns, "Cho?"

She blushes. She doesn't really know what forced this reply. Whenever she hears 'dressing room', she imagines extravagant dresses and royal stools. And since her last raid to a fashion store, Cho has reserved the image of the royal battler who also secretly runs errands as a good fairy. She shrugs, "He knows about fashion", she answers, feeling like a complete idiot. "He helped me pick out my wedding dress", she adds nervously.

Jane's entire face opens up. "He helped you- ... Really?" he asks, crestfallen.

She studies his expression, trying to determine if he's messing with her. He looks genuinely surprised, but at the same time, amused.

"Don't tell me you hadn't realized that", she says.

Jane shakes his head, eyes wide-open, "I swear I had no clue". His lips stretch to a smile. "This man... Still keeps amazing me". His eyes land on her, glinting with fervor. "But anyway, I was thinking of another person to play dress-up with".

She starts to smile, sinking into a daze, but reality strikes her again with persistence. She straightens her shoulders. "That person needs to hurry to go to the airport or else she'll go crazy!" she announces, bumping onto his shoulder as she rushes to the bathroom. Jane raises his hands, palms spread. He stares at the wooden door of the closet, murmuring to himself. Then, abruptly, the sounds of steps rise behind him once again. Before he can turn around, Lisbon attacks him from behind, pushing him inside the closet and gripping from his shoulders to press her lips on his. He breathes her in, clasping her waist. He has barely returned the kiss though, before she runs back away. He flops onto the wall of clothes, puffing.

* * *

They spend the early hours of the day in a general state of hyperventilation, scouring the house for all the essentials they're gonna need for the journey-toothbrushes, towels, heavy clothing. As they cross paths in front of the bathroom, Lisbon stops to fix his shirt and lapels. He stands still, a little thrill jazzing his heart. These little thrills have been a frequent occurrence throughout the short span of his marriage life. He didn't foresee that receiving the love and care of his wife in tiny doses of everyday life would enthral him so much. It's like every gesture, every caress awakens bits of his heart. He's never felt so alive in his life.

"Did you take your tea cup?" Teresa asks, engrossed in her task.

"Hmm?" he asks, captivated by the perfect symmetry of dark and light shades on her face - the soft curve of her lashes, the dimples in her cheeks, the mane of chestnut hair. Green, round eyes plunge into his. He jolts out of his daydream.

"Uh, tea cup, no, thanks for reminding me", he smiles warmly, leaning in to place a kiss under both of her eyes.

"You're welcome", she says flustered.

Jane fixes a quick breakfast and a cup of decaf for her to have on the go. He knows she hates it, but she needs the illusion of comfort. The trunk of their cab slams shut with all their baggage in. Jane rounds the vehicle to the driver's window. He knocks on the blurry glass and rolls his finger. The window opens, revealing a chubby man with sparse, grey-brown hair.

"Hello", Jane greets him, waving his hand. "Uh", he turns toward the front door of the house, then back to the taxi driver, "my wife is kind of on her third month. She's pretty sensitive to any kind of turbulence", he says confidentially, then gently taps two fingers on the man's shoulder. "It would be better if you took the fastest route to the airport and not the one you think you will make the most money from", his voice hiccups with a giggle.

"Of course, yeah" says the taxi driver, sounding a little uncertain.

"Jane!" Lisbon's voice echoes from the porch. Jane straightens his body, swirling on his heel.

"Yes, honey, I'm coming!"

Lisbon rolls her suitcase to the top of the stairs, her long beige coat flapping about her sides. He strides to her side to release her from her burden.

"What were you talking about with the cab driver?" she asks.

"Nothing, I just made sure he'll take us to the airport fast".

* * *

Their taxi rolls into the airport area, adding inches to the already extended yellow ribbon that surrounds it. There's plenty of honking and doors slamming. People unload their luggage amidst the traffic, rushing to catch a flight. Neon lights flash maniacally, luring the crowds into the gift shops and large toy stores. The holiday mood is at its highest.

Lisbon glances through her window quietly, tapping her cell phone on her thigh. She lowers her gaze and hovers her thumb over Stan's contact photo. His wolfish smile strikes as a stark difference from the disheartened expression he wore the last time she saw him. She lets out a gusty sigh. Jane's gaze weighs on her from the seat next to her.

"I can't call him", she says.

He reaches out and massages her arm softly. She lifts her head to meet his eyes. He presses his lips with understanding. "It's okay. I'll do it", he reassures her, opening his palm.

She shakes her head. "No, if someone has to call, that's me", she disagrees. "I'm the one who failed them".

" _Failed_ them?" Jane frowns. "Come on, Teresa, I think you're being a little too hard on yourself. You didn't _fail_ them. Okay, you overslept. It can happen to the best people. Plus-" he raises his finger to stop her, as she opens her mouth to disagree. "Your needs are increased now", he defends.

"Jane, I can't just call him and tell him I slept in. He was probably waiting for me to call all morning. If I tell him I was sleeping, I'll just give him another reason to complain that I don't care enough", she fumes.

Jane bites the corner of his mouth, his expression pensive. She glooms at him under her eyelashes. His pupils flare, following down an invisible path, as they seem to do whenever he's conjuring up a plan of action. The car smooths a few inches forward and the window behind Jane locks on a Santa Claus greeting costumers into a toy store, distributing gifts out of a huge sack.

"What?" she asks impatiently.

"I have an idea", Jane says. His million watt grin climbs on his face. Behind him, a large red neon sign blinks _Merry Christmas, Ho ho ho!_ He leans forward toward the cab driver.

"Thank you", he says. Then, to her surprise, he pats his shoulder and hands out some dollars. The cab driver jumps in his seat, shaking his head. He grabs the money out of Jane's hand somewhat clumsily.

"No problem", he mumbles. Lisbon narrows her eyes. Jane catches her gaze and lifts his shoulders in question. She turns to her door and pulls the handle. Jane exits from the other side and heads to the trunk, instantly busying himself with their suitcases. She approaches him, hands folded across her chest.

"Jane, did you hypnotize our cab driver?" she asks.

Jane tilts his head, his eyes widening, as if he's about to deny it. Then, he lets out a sigh. "Yes", he admits, his eyes serious.

"You can't just use hypnotism to solve all our problems. It's against the law", she argues. Jane nods with compliance. "But…" She unfolds her hands, lowering her chin. "Considered our situation, I think it was pretty effective", she murmurs under her breath.

Triumph climbs on his face. He gapes at her with tender, loving eyes.

"Come on, we need to hurry if you want to see your brothers today".

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	4. Chapter 4: Winter Chicago

Chapter 4: Winter Chicago

Thick, fluffy beads of cotton swirl in the wind, dancing to a frenetic rhythm, only to vanish into moisture as they touch the asphalt. The flakes breathe memories of a life long forgotten. Images that glow faint like embers. The frosty weather is an entirely different page from the sunny landscapes of Texas. But it bears an essence of home like no other. There's something about winter Chicago that connects to her soul. It awakens the little girl in her, the one who once took a box of colorful crayons and drew a little yellow house with a happy family on her bedroom wall. It is as if all the sweet reminiscences of her childhood are embroidered on the Christmas spirit.

After long waiting, they manage to rent a car. Driving through all the familiar landmarks feels like good old wine touching her tongue after years of abstinence. Jane gapes through the passenger's window with childish acrimony, being his usual cheerful self. The back seat of the car is stuffed with shopping bags and colorful wrap paper. Soft notes of old Christmas carols infiltrate the air. The mood is almost intoxicating, in that lazy, drunken way. Lisbon dips her head, taking a glimpse of the darkening sky.

"Let's hope they're gonna be home", she mutters.

Jane shrugs. "Well, if they're not, we'll just have to surprise them a little later", he answers, eyes twinkling. His little idea has his spirit hopping like the flames of a kindling fire. _We'll make it seem deliberate. Like we planned to surprise them_ , he said. They literally spent the entire day among shop aisles, choosing the right gifts for each of her family members.

A female voice covers the last drawling notes of the song 'Winter Wonderland'. Lisbon maneuvers the car to avoid a block of ice on the asphalt.

 _"Walking in a winter wonderland Frank Sinatra sings, but from the looks of it my friends, there will be no walking during Christmas this time. Weather broadcasters highly advise us to stay inwards, as a snow hurricane is approaching in the next few days..."_

* * *

The sun has immersed under the horizon when their car eases off at Stan's house. The flickering glow of a lantern sheds light on the front porch. Little porcelain dwarfs deck each stair and a fat wreath hangs on the front door. Pride, guilt and melancholy trickle down her chest. Her heart squeezes, like that of a mother who takes delight in watching her kids' achievements. She raised them after all.

Two fingers brush the inside of her elbow.

"Shall we?" Jane asks, waving toward the falling snow that's already formed a thick line on the bottom of the windscreen. Strangely enough, her thoughts tumble back to a dusky day. She's diving into the pour of rain, her hand clasping his. There's nothing similar between the present moment and the memory his words excavate. Now there's snow where once rain was; dark skies instead of a twilight; and selfless, fully expressed love where once suppressed, complicated feelings existed.

She nods gently, mouthing, "Yes".

They pull the handles in sync and run to the back of the car, the snowstorm muffling their giggles. They dive into the pile of gifts, each filling their arms with a bunch. She only takes the light ones, careful not to attach too much weight on her son.

Jane rounds the car, coming to her side. "First to reach the front door gets to drive next time!" he says then, bursting into a run.

"Hey!" she protests, diving after him. She pushes past him on the top stair. As she arrives at the door victorious, she whirls around to watch him approach.

"I won", she chants.

"You pushed me! It wasn't a fair race!" he complains.

"You're just saying that because you can't admit you lost from a woman".

Jane rolls his eyes. "Okay, I feel that this conversation isn't going anywhere good for me, so I'm stopping it here".

"Very wise of you", she murmurs, twirling around to the entrance.

She realizes, as her eyes land on the door, that with all the rush of adrenaline, she's forgotten all of her earlier concerns. She closes her eyes, shaking her head with a smile. _My clever husband_. She turns to look at him.

"You're an angel, you know that?"

Jane tilts his chin, his eyes beaming with question. _Still likes to play the Lone Ranger,_ she thinks. Pretending he doesn't know what she's talking about to avoid the thank-you's. She leans in and places a kiss on his cheek. Jane blushes, the cold enhancing the ruddy color. She draws her attention to the house and presses the bell. Their steamy breaths blur the air while they're waiting.

"Comin'!" Stan's muffled voice echoes from the interior. There are steps trampling on the floor, some metal jiggling, and finally, the door is yanked half out of the way. Stan's force fades off as he lays eyes on them; he opens the rest of the door slowly.

Lisbon grins from ear to ear, "Surprise!" she chants.

"Teresa", Stan mumbles. His face brightens with the vestiges of a smile.

"Daddy? Who is it?" shouts a girly voice. Foot clatter arises in the depth of the house, heading at their direction. Annie and Jason halt at the hall, once they see them. They stare at her quietly, struggling to catch their breaths. Teresa takes in their serious expressions, a cold fist clenching around her heart. She hadn't considered the kids could be disappointed in her. Karen's face emerges behind the wall at the same time that heavy steps sound on the staircase; Jimmy and Lucy stop at the top stair. For a few moments, the focus of the universe shifts to her niece and nephew. She doesn't know why their reaction suddenly holds the utmost significance to her.

The kids lower their gazes to her arms. They take a sharp breath, their eyes flying upwards, widening.

"Presents!" they shout in unison, and she thinks the blast of relief will leave her paralyzed. Jason throws his hands around her feet, while Annie tackles Jane. The boxes shimmy out of balance in Jane's embrace. His eyes widen momentarily, but he quickly gains control.

"Hey little one, be careful, you don't want any of these to fall on your head", he quips.

Karen paces to her husband's side, her face stretching out in happy surprise. "Thank you for coming", she says earnestly.

Jimmy and Lucy join them shortly. The mask of awe on Stan's face slowly smooths to realization. His smile breaks through at full capacity. He sticks out his finger.

"You had me fooled. I thought you weren't coming", he says. Lisbon's smile wavers a little. Before she can answer though, Stan pulls her into a warm embrace.

She jumps, "Careful, the baby", she warns.

"Oops, sorry!" Stan says, loosening his arms.

"Family hug!" Jimmy shrieks then.

And while the winter howls outside, they all gather under the glow of candlelight, arms stretching out and heads crashing together. Crushed in a shroud of love, she thinks, movies weren't elaborate enough. Family reunions are so much more than how they're portrayed.

As the welcoming ceremony takes an end, Lisbon searches the room with her eyes.

"Did Tommy answer the phone?" she asks Stan.

Stan shakes his head sadly, "No".

She nods, not saying anything. Words are trivial.

"Well, don't just stand there, you'll catch a cold", Stan raises his voice. "Come inside, lemme show you to your room!"

* * *

The evening passes in an overall mood of elation, with outbursts of joy, love and gratitude. Lisbon lost count of how many hugs she's been immersed into. Many times she caught Jane's gaze from across the living room, his eyes a shimmering glow. Her heart chirruped each time, awakening the ghost of the fear that seethes deep inside. She... _loves_ this. So much she gets instants where she wants to abandon everything else in her life, instants where she forgets her initial objections.

After celebrations cease, she and Jane retreat to their room. The Christmas decorations spread all over the house. Lights dangle from the windows in their bedroom and ornaments decorate the headrests of the two beds. Each bed is spacious enough for one to stretch their limbs onto and two to sleep crushed together. She grimaces at the distance between them. _Why separated beds?_ Jane strolls to one of them and sits on the edge, his eyes assessing the room. She leans with her back on the door, watching him in fascination, until their gazes meet. She arches an eyebrow.

"Seeing anything you like?" she quips.

He huffs a laugh with her attempt at flirting. "You're good", he commends, pointing with his finger.

She shrugs, "You're certainly bringing it out of me", she remarks.

His grin broadens. His gaze loafs around once more. "It's... quite festive. Your sister-in-law has quite a taste". They stare at each other quietly. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Jane says after a while.

She nods, "Thanks to you".

He smiles lopsidedly, but his eyes stay serious. "I can't be happy when you're not", he confesses. His cheeks redden a little, his voice ripples. It's still against his character to reveal emotion, but she can see the effort he summons for her. And it's getting easier with each day. Suddenly, the distance between them strikes her as completely irrational and redundant. She closes it in two strides and flops onto his lap, throwing her arms around his frame. He hugs her tightly, slightly lifting her up, burying his face in her hair. They stay like that for time she cannot measure.

"You know it, right?" her whisper splits the silence.

"Know what?" he asks softly.

"That I love you... More than anything in this world?"

His chest stills slightly, his breath catches. "I do", he answers after a moment, his arms tightening around her, "but it feels amazing to hear you say it".

She smiles, her lips brushing his neck. Her mouth climbs to his ear. "I love you", she murmurs again.

Jane takes a deep breath, "I know". His smile is audible in his voice. She trembles with a giggle.

The door flies open, letting in a breeze of voices. She slips out of Jane's lap, landing next to him on the mattress. Jimmy stops short of the entrance, covering himself behind his palms.

"Oops, sorry! Should have knocked first", he apologizes.

"It's okay, Jimmy", Lisbon answers. "We weren't doing anything". She exchanges a glance with Jane. Jimmy peeks through his fingers, then lowers his hands and smiles shyly.

Lisbon waves her head, "Is there something that you want?" she asks.

Jimmy looks around in confusion. "No", he shrugs. He stares at her, as if he deems his answer sufficient.

"Then, why are you here?" she asks in the manner she'd ask a retarded person.

Jimmy's eyes narrow, then open with realization. "Wait — Stan didn't tell you?" he stutters.

"Tell me what?" she worries.

Jimmy waves his finger between them. "We're sharing the room", he explains.

"What? Why?" Lisbon bursts.

"Well, last time I checked, this house only had one guest room", Jimmy says sarcastically.

Lisbon gawks at him open-mouthed. She glances at Jane, whose eyes are painted in her own panic. He feigns a little smile.

"You're joking, right?" she questions Jimmy.

He shakes his head, pressing his lips together. Just then, Lucy jumps on her brother's back from behind in an attempt to scare him. Jimmy starts, catching her hand on his shoulder. He gives an awkward laugh, pulling Lucy to his front.

"We're having a sleepover together, daaaaa!" she exclaims, throwing out her arms.

"Yes!" Lisbon enthuses, though inside, she's burying herself under a million crusts of earth.

* * *

She tosses restlessly, occasionally punching a leg or an arm into Jane's body, who conceals his protests with a cough or a clearing of his throat. After a while, he locks her feet under his leg, her arms under his, and pulls her back flush against his chest. But that only worsens the situation, since her body now pains with thirst she cannot quench. He seems to sense her frustration, as he plants some space between them, though not entirely letting go. She inhales deeply and lets out the air, relaxing.

Jimmy sleeps opposite her, though she can't discern him in the dark. Lucy's rhythmic breathing suggests that's she's already fast asleep. The night falls quiet at last, but for her loud thoughts. _It's okay, Teresa. It's only going to be for two weeks. You're gonna have plenty of private time later._ God, what's wrong with her? When did she become addicted to her husband's graces?

"Teresa?" she hears Jimmy whisper. His voice sounds vulnerable—it reminds her of when he was a child and she tucked him into bed. She blinks into the dark, surprised and embarrassed for the thoughts he interrupted. She thought he was sleeping.

"Yes... Jimmy?" she answers a little uncertainly, her voice growing soft, as protective instincts battle her earlier annoyance. Jane's breath turns shallow. She knows he only pretends he's fallen asleep.

"I'm really happy you decided to spend Christmas with us", Jimmy confesses.

She's rendered speechless for several seconds.

"Me too, Jimmy", she murmurs. Whispering, "Me too". And as the words touch her lips, she knows them to be true.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for the comments! So many guests here that I cannot thank with a PM. Thank you Nathalie, Azucar, crepe and the anon Guests! More soon!


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